Up All Night
by karly05
Summary: I felt the urge to write some Ferb/Vanessa fluff, and this is what happens when I stay up way past my bedtime. Wholesome Sweetness Galore.


**A/N - I had the urge to de-stress with some F/V fluff, and just finished this at 12:45 am. If you're not familiar with my take on Ferb's bio-mom, you might want to read "Toy Trains and Tea."**

Up All Night

Ferb was awakened by the smallest of sounds. No more than the tiniest of sighs, and the softest rustle of linens, and he was at once alert. Vanessa, curled beside him, was still asleep, and he swiftly slipped out from under the blankets before she woke. His feet had hardly touched the floor, however, before the tiny sigh became a squeak, then a squawk. Three steps to the bassinet, and the squirming bundle of flannel was scooped up in his gentle hands and cuddled to his chest. Tiny fingers groped at his pajama shirt, and Ferb chirruped softly to the baby in a comforting tone, but the squalling only grew louder. He sighed in dismay. He really had thought he was getting the hang of fatherhood.

Vanessa was awake now and clambering into a sitting position. "Here," she mumbled drowsily, holding out a hand.

"No, no," Ferb replied in a hushed voice. "Go back to sleep. I can handle this."

"No, you can't," Vanessa regarded him with the fondest of smiles. "She's hungry." Scooting herself up and stuffing his pillow behind her back for support, she readied herself as he brought the baby around to her. "Come here, Sweet Pea," she opened her arms, and Ferb carefully handed her their daughter. "There you go," she spoke tenderly, as the baby rooted against her and found what she wanted.

He sat on the edge of the bed, facing them, quietly watching his wife and child. Vanessa never ceased to amaze him. Not three weeks into motherhood, and she was already adept at translating every little coo or cry – much better at it than he was, apparently. Ferb was ashamed to admit, he had wondered how she would handle this new responsibility, the sleepless nights, the constant interruptions. It had been ridiculous of him to worry, he knew. His remarkable wife was nothing at all like the flighty, selfish woman – he still avoided thinking of her as his mother – who had abandoned him all those years ago. Vanessa was strong and loving and wise, and besides, she had dearly wanted a baby; he had been the hold out, always wanting to wait a bit longer, until he felt they were truly settled and prepared. Finally, she had said to him, "Ferb, I'm thirty-three! At this rate, I'll be in a wheelchair before the baby graduates high school." And, when confronted with the looming option of Now or Never, Now had ultimately won him over.

Ferb had to confess, he felt a certain delight at the fluffy layer of green down on his daughter's head, and a bit of trepidation at her distinctly squarish nose. Hopefully, having her mother's eyes and mouth would compensate for that inheritance. There was one other thing he still wondered, regarding her, and he said, in a low voice, "You don't suppose she'll mind having Winifred as a middle name?"

"I've had to tolerate being Vanessa Joy all these years." With a grudging smile, she rolled her eyes at her own hated middle name. "I think she can handle Felicia Winifred. Besides, she'll be proud to know it was her great-grandmother's name."

Ferb nodded. After all, Winifred had been his idea, in honor of his beloved Gran. Felicia had been a joint decision; Vanessa had wanted an "F" name for a girl, or a "V" name for a boy, in a reversal of their initials. They had brainstormed names, and as soon as he had uttered, "Felicia," in his crisp accent, Vanessa had fallen in love with it. Now, Felicia was full and drowsy, and Vanessa looked up. "Here," she offered, moving to hand the little bundle back to him. He accepted the gift, and smiled as his child yawned and snuggled in his arms. Carrying her back to the bassinet, he settled her down, and stroked a loving hand over her head before returning to his own bed. As Vanessa nestled in beside him, he kissed her and murmured, "I love you, Mrs. Fletcher."

It was a playful habit they'd gotten into, once they'd been married, and she replied, as always, "I love you, too, Mr. Fletcher."

And Ferb thought, as he closed his eyes, _Mine __is __the __best __life __ever._

THE END

**A/N - Ferb and Vanessa belong to Dan and Swampy. Felicia Winifred Fletcher is my own invention. (As is Vanessa's ironic middle name.)**


End file.
